I hear you're from Chicago
by ClockworkScales
Summary: Poppy sets Mary up with a date with Edward Cullen, a boy who catches her fancy. It is Chicago, 1901, and the Influenza is about.


**A/N: Oh, how I've missed writing. I had been thinking of writing lately but I never really had any good ideas. Then I read some random Twilight fanfiction on this website and thought it was absolutely dreadful, written with no idea for character, crap ideas for plot. No grammar sense, no spelling sense. Ugh, it was just AWFUL and I wanted to write another Twilight fanfiction which is hopefully good (well, I like it) to add to the morbid bunch. But I'm being negative. I did have a bit of fun reading them, and it gave me some confidence and good writing-prodding. **

**I liked the idea of writing about the Cullen's from an outsider's perspective, and I liked the idea exploring Edward's life before he was a vampire. Hmm. I think Mary and Poppy are cute characters, though. You will see. **

* * *

'He was a handsome young man,' Mary was saying to her friend Poppy over lunch, 'and I'm wish I could have seen him sooner.'

She twirled the sugar into her coffee and took a sip, her eyelids fluttering heavily over her large brown eyes.

'Yeah,' Poppy crooned, 'so tell me more about him.'

Mary sighed and rest her head in her hands. Poppy clicked her fingers in front of Mary's face and then after a few moments slumped back into her seat, a look of bewilderment on her face.

'Boy, you are love-struck.'

A pink flush pierced Mary's cheeks and Poppy took a bite out of her spinach and cheese triangle, satisfied.

'I saw him one morning on my way to the flower shop. He had a surly face chiseled into his masculine face. Instinctively, I wanted to help him so I have decided to buy him some flowers to make him feel better. I wondered where he was going. It looked like he was heading towards the Turzak House. He must love artwork, I wonder if he does any himself.'

After this spiel Mary took a large gulp of her coffee and stared at the bleak sunlight tapping the umbrella they were sitting under. Poppy's eyebrows furrowed together. 'Hey! I know that boy. That's the Cullen fellow!'

Mary spluttered, 'What! Poppy, you know him?'

'He comes to the restaurant in the evenings. He likes to eat pasta. He seems to have a hefty appetite for meat, too. Especially lamb,' her eyes glinted at the memory and she winked at Mary. 'A real lamb like you would be a treat to him.'

'Oh, are you sure? I mean, I heard his family got sick. I wouldn't want to be any trouble,' Mary's voice shook with excitement and uncertainty. 'I would love to bring him some flowers though; do you know what kind he likes?'

'No idea,' Poppy shrugged. 'He's commented on a few of the artwork pieces on the walls. Like The Kiss by Klimt.'

'I know that one,' Mary said slowly. 'What did he say about it?'

Poppy laughed. 'He queried upon the lack of the man's face. "Does this man know who he is? Do you suppose he's lost?" he said. He's a real wacko, really, actually.' Her face fell. 'Maybe you shouldn't go after him after all.'

'Why, does he have a girlfriend?'

'No, he doesn't – that's the problem,' Poppy finished her pastry and clapped her hands together. 'I mean, he doesn't seem very social, if you get what I mean.'

'You mean he's isolated?'

'No, he seems… I don't know how to explain it. It's like he's not one of us, you know.'

'No, I don't… Do you think he's worried about his family?'

Poppy rolled her eyes slightly. 'Of course he is, but I almost think he is _too_ much, you know. He spends a lot of time in that hospital. At this rate he's going to get sick himself!'

'I sure hope not!' Mary cried out. She downed the last of her coffee and placed a few coins on the table. 'So what time is he around the restaurant? I want to meet him.'

'Well, well, I can certainly help you with that!' Poppy said enthusiastically, sliding her chair out from under the table to get up. They began to walk down the street. 'Poppy Slates at your service! Chicago's number one match-maker, since 1989.' She winked at Mary and chuckled when she blushed. 'Don't worry, sweetie, I've still got my touch.' Poppy reassured her, and slapped Mary's behind and winked. 'Just remember what I told you…'

Mary frowned. Poppy Slates was the town's local lesbian gal and she wasn't afraid to show it. She had been in love with Mary for several years but Mary…

'I know you're here for me, Poppy. But I just don't feel that way, you know. Like how you don't feel that way towards guys.'

'Yeah, I know,' Poppy smiled, and meant it. 'I want you to be happy, so I'm going to set you and this Edward fellow on a date!'

'Oh, really? Thank you! Thank you!' Mary exclaimed, startling a few people as they walked down the street. Mary threw her arms around Poppy and Poppy kissed her on the lips, completely off guard. When Mary drew away she touched her lips in amazement. 'Why did you do that?'

'Don't worry, it was a friend-kiss,' Poppy said. 'I wouldn't hurt you like that, don't worry... But it _was_ fun.'

Poppy Slates and Mary Bottle wore similar dresses which flowed to their feet.

A few people cussed at Poppy occasionally, thinking her proud lesbianism (or just lesbianism, period) was blasphemous. Poppy's parents had not disowned her though, and left the church to support their beautiful girl. Her hair was sleek and short; a maroon color. Her eyes and lips were voluptuous and caught the attention of both sexes, but she only had eyes for Poppy. She was truly, very attractive, and she was very proud. The girl would walk down the street in nothing but a bathing suit if she could get away with it. Miss Slates had been match-making since she was eight years old, and now, in sweet old 1901 at twenty years old, she was still going strong.

Mary, on the other hand, worked in a flower shop around the block from Poppy's family's restaurant. They were losing publicity and so was Mary, but they were modest and clean and they enjoyed to help the public. Mary's flower shop had been handed to her by her parents when they left to Europe in 1898 and she dropped out of school to work full time. Poppy and Mary were best friends, and had been since Elementary School.

'Oh, Poppy,' Mary sighed, wrapping an arm around Poppy's waist and turning the street's dingy corner. 'I can't wait to meet him, I really can't.'

*

Edward Cullen spun the pasta around his fork and shoved it into his mouth, chewing with reverence for the delicious food. The Slates really made the best pasta, and the meat was fantastic too. Edward swallowed and munched on a piece of garlic bread, glad he had ordered so much; he was ravenous. He hadn't eaten all day and he hadn't slept much either. Insomnia was something which had become natural lately and the bags under his eyes were like old friends. The scruffy-haired teenager finished his bowl of creamy pasta, garlic bread and then decided he would order some of the herbed lamb for his enjoyment. He would buy some greek salad as an accompaniment, also. Poppy Slate, he knew, was the part time worker there and she often took meals for him. The Cullen boy had heard she was a lesbian, but to be frank he couldn't really care less. He was grateful that she wasn't pouring all over him, however – that was a plus side.

The man didn't really fancy many of the girls around here, and if he did it was only for physical means. Edward remembered the times he pulled a girl off the street to pleasure him in a nearby alleyway, promising her to see her again, but when he did he was always disappointed. His adulthood made his long for the taste and feel of womanly flesh, but his mind and emotions kept him in check. He had yet to meet somebody special, who meant something to him. That was always the problem. It wouldn't matter how physical he got with any of them, it would never mean something.

'Excuse me, Waitress,' Edward Cullen said, raising his hand politely but really feeling a bit grumpy; that and really hungry. He pressed a smile to his face when Poppy Slates approached him, wearing an apron tied around her chest.

'How may I help you, sir Edward?' Poppy teased and a vain throbbed in Edward's temple.

'I told you to call me Edward! None of this sir Edward crap,' the boy growled indignantly, but when Poppy laughed he couldn't help but feel his muscles relax. It made him feel happier. 'Could I have the lamb and the greek salad?'

'Again?' Poppy queried, but she scribbles down the order, anyway. 'Sure thing, buster. Anything else?'

'Yes, could you serve me some of the hot fudge sundae when you're done? I feel like I need some sugar in my stomach,' he patted his tummy with a wry grin upon his face. 'Your family really makes the best food.'

'Thank you,' said Poppy brightly, 'I'll go put your order in for you. Would you like a drink?'

'Yes, I would like some ale…' Edward mumbled, 'If you will.'

'Oh, I will,' Poppy said slyly.

She didn't go away. Edward raised a bushy eyebrow.

'You're certainly hungry today,' the waitress observed.

'Yes,' Edward explained. 'I have been visiting my family in the hospital. I have not eaten since last night.'

Poppy's eyes grew wide and she disappeared to give in the order. But to Edward's surprise, she came back and sat down next to him. 'Mind if I ask you something?'

His reply was quick.

'Go.'

'I have this friend of mine, and she's interested in you. I wonder if you would take her out to dinner – or, if she could join you one evening – maybe Friday?'

Edward was about to say 'no' when he considered the notion. Dinner was just dinner after all; perhaps he could dissuade her from her affections. Or maybe… his brain clicked. Maybe he could... persuade her to spend some quality time with him. His mouth twitched and his inner demon growled sympathetically. Yes, he would do that.

'Of course,' he said, and Poppy's face split in to a smile.

'Great! Her name is Mary and she runs the flower shop around the corner.'

'Is that _Petals A Plenty_?'

'Sure is!'

Edward leaned back in his chair and scratched his scalp, a crease forming in his forehead.

'Her name is Mary Bottle?'

'So you do know her after all!' Poppy exclaimed. 'What do you think of her?'

The teenager's eyes darted away from her face.

'She's cute, I suppose.'

Poppy grew concerned at his lack of enthusiasm. 'What's wrong?'

The boy shifted in his seat and leaned forward. 'Are you sure she wants to have dinner with me? I have glimpsed her only a few times, and she looked … surprised every time she saw me.'

Poppy chuckled. 'That girl rarely fancies anybody, so she was surprised to fall for you so easily.' She picked up the salt shaker and observed it. 'She thinks you're handsome.'

'Does she?' Edward asked, out of politeness rather than curiosity. Most women found him attractive. His good looks seemed to be a well-known fact; even older women commented on his charms.

'Sure does,' Poppy said. Then a bell rang and she disappeared. A few moments later she returned with his food, and placed it in front of him. The waitress leaned over the table as the boy began to cut the roasted lamb with a rigorous fervor.

'So 7 o'clock?'

Edward glanced at the watch on his wrist.

'Sure.'

*

Inside The Slates' Restaurant, at 6:54pm, Poppy perked up at the sight of her best friend, dressed in a slithery blue dress. 'Looking great, sister.'

Mary smiled bashfully and fingered the dress, 'do you think he'll like it?'

'He'd better,' Poppy said. 'But just in case he doesn't I'll make sure my parents poison his food.'

Mary looked alarmed. 'Don't do that!'

Poppy peered around at the side wall and saw Edward, wearing a suit and adjusting his tie with a complacent expression. 'He's over there. I'll bring you over. Don't worry, you look fantastic.'

'Thanks,' said Mary, and Poppy guided her towards the table amongst the bustle of Friday evening. Loud and rowdy customers had been positioned outdoors so inside was a pleasant and calm. Friday evenings had jazz music lined up and Poppy smirked at her choice of music; the perfect atmosphere for romance. As they approached the table, Edward's head rose and he looked Mary directly in the eye.

*

'You look dreadful!' Mary cried at Edward, and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth and stuttered. 'Oh! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that was rude, wasn't it?'

'Don't worry about it,' Edward said. 'Please, take a seat.'

'Yeah, Mary, take a seat,' Poppy urged, and the girl was pressed into the mahogany seat. 'Have some menus.'

'T-thanks,' Mary stuttered and Edward nodded in acknowledgement.

'I'll leave you two love-birds alone to decide your order,' Poppy winked and she departed. Mary blushed, but Edward clearly didn't appreciate the humor. Edward observed Mary with a keen eye, finally able to see her properly. Her eyes were brown and eager, and her body frame was small and modest. She had a pointy chin and high cheekbones, and her face was freckled across her nose and cheeks. Her chestnut colored hair was curled slightly near her face (by a curling wand, Edward presumed, since she normally had her hair straight), all in all, she looked very adorable and pretty. Suddenly, Mary pulled something out from behind her back and handed it to Edward.

A small bouquet of flowers wrapped blue crepe-paper. He took it in mild surprise.

'Are these …'

'Daisies, yes. I know they're a bit simple but I think simple is best sometimes,' Mary said cheerily, glad to finally give him the flowers. 'I think they're really pretty.'

'They are,' Edward agreed, placing them next to his knife. 'Thank you.' Then he picked up a menu. 'Why don't you tell me about your flower shop?'

*

Mary was confused about Edward's appearance. For some reason he appeared to have gotten paler and the bags under his eyes were more prominent then ever. She had just finished telling Edward about her parents leaving to Europe and how she had to take care of herself in the flat above the shop when Poppy came to take their orders.

Edward ordered lamb.

Mary ordered a salad.

'Are you worried about your weight?' Edward questioned. 'I wouldn't expect that from a pretty girl like you.'

The girl blushed again. 'No, no, I'm not worried; I just haven't eaten salad much lately. I've been eating a lot of meat,' she laughed heartily and Edward's lips perked into a smile; she glowed when she laughed.

Something about Edward made Mary feel uncomfortable, and she couldn't quite place it. It was as if he had been with the dying too long; like maybe he was dying himself. His eyes suddenly drooped and he sneezed.

'Excuse me,' Edward said. 'I must have caught a cold.'

'It's okay,' Mary explained. 'I have a special immunity against colds, being around flowers all the time, so you don't have to worry.'

Edward didn't really want to take advantage of this girl; she seemed very kind and honest. A good person. He couldn't feel himself able to connect very well, though.

'How are your parents?' Mary asked. 'I heard they were sick.'

'They are sick,' Edward confirmed. 'They have the Spanish Influenza.'

Mary nodded silently and wondered if he was catching more than a cold. He looked more and more dreadful by the day.

'You know, Mary,' Edward began. 'I really like you. You're not like the other girls I have met…' He noticed Mary look excited, and he knew he had to let her down. 'However, I don't think I will able to form the connection you would like with me. You noticed I look unwell, and I concur, I am unwell. I have not been feeling my best lately and I am very concerned for my family. However, if you're willing, I would like to see you again; as friends. I do not feel we can become close like boyfriend and girlfriend.'

There was a small pause, and Mary spoke up.

'I don't understand. Poppy said that you have never had a girlfriend - that she never sees you with any women… So, it makes me wonder… if you're gay. Poppy's gay, you know, and she's not afraid to admit it, but if you are and you're denying it, I think that's something you should probably address as soon as possible because it can make you depressed, and you have the feel of somebody who is depressed!' Mary spluttered and went beet-red. 'But maybe it's not and maybe you're just… I don't know, you feel different from other people, like you've been hanging out with the dead.'

Edward paused, and then burst out laughing. He suddenly looked like a young man, the seventeen year old he was. Mary was twenty and there was quite an age gap, but she was willing to help him, anyway. She wasn't concerned about becoming lovers so much anymore. There was something wrong with him; she could feel it.

'You're very cute, you know that?' He put down his knife and fork together in the way that denotes you've finished a meal. 'You know, I hope you don't feel patronized. I am younger than you, after all, so _I _should the one feeling patronized but I have been with women several times – many times. I know what it's like to have a lover, but I have never felt the emotional bond of it. It is a strange thing, and perhaps this is what you feel about me. Perhaps you feel I am lifeless because of this lack of feeling,' he paused. Mary frowned. 'But to answer your question,' he chuckled. 'I am not gay. But thank you for asking, I really appreciate your honesty and it pleases me you look at me, even for a moment, as something different from the other girls.' His eyes glinted with appreciation. 'I hope I remember you.'

Mary felt speechless. She didn't know what she was going to tell Poppy, but she knew she was going to be disappointed. She figured she ought to speak her mind, again, especially if he appreciated honesty.

'I think you should see a doctor.'

Edward had obviously thought of the answer before-hand.

'I hang around doctors every day, I'm sure one of them will notice if I get sick,' Edward said. He ran a hand through his scruffy brown hair and sighed heavily. 'I really wish my parents would get better, but at this rate…' his throat suddenly felt swollen and painful. 'I am afraid they will not make it.' His eyes welled with emotion and Mary had a feeling he had kept this bottled up for a long time. 'I do not wish them death.'

Mary scooted around the table and put a hand on his back, taking his other hand in her own. It was very hot, which was strange considering the clothing he was wearing.

'How are you feeling?' Mary asked, her voice etched with concern, pushing panic to the back of her throat. Edward looked at her through puffy eyes and choked.

'I'm actually extremely chilly... Do you think they could turn the heaters on?'

'It's spring!' Mary cried and she jumped to her feet. 'Oh my god, Edward, you're sick! You have to go to a doctor right now!' She pulled at his arm but he pushed her away. Caught aback, Mary fell backwards and knocked into Poppy who been eavesdropping at the table next to them, pretending to clean a particularly stubborn table. Poppy yelped in alarm as Mary crashed to the floor, pulling Poppy down with her.

'Hey, what's wrong!? What happened?' she cried in outrage. 'Did he push you?'

'He didn't mean to!' Mary wailed, tears starting to sting her eyes. 'He's sick, Poppy! He's got a fever!'

Poppy suddenly ran towards Edward and put her palm against his forehead. It was sweaty and as hot as a kettle. 'Edward, I'm going to call an ambulance.'

'The hospital is only a few blocks away – it's okay – I can –' Edward stood and coughed. 'I can walk there myself. It's –'

He stumbled, and then fainted. His body crumbled into a heap and the restaurant went silent.

*

Two weeks later…

'What happened to him?' Poppy asked Mary as she sat at a table. 'I mean, you…'

'He's dead,' Mary said, and there was a lack of care in her voice, it was as if it had been placed in a vacuum. 'It's a weird feeling. I hardly knew him, but in a way it's good to know he's with his family – I heard they went, too. It's all very sad.'

Poppy patted Mary on the shoulder and then smiled encouragingly. 'At least you gave him the flowers.'

'I did – I even brought them to his room. He was a real mess. The hospital called me up to say he passed away this morning. It was that doctor, erm, what was his name? Carlisle. It reminds me of England for some reason,' Mary sighed. 'You know, I think he liked the flowers, and he seemed to be a good person. There was a funny feeling about him, though. I can't quite put my finger on it.'

'Don't worry, Mary,' Poppy said, sitting down at her table and caressing her face. 'Y'know, there's nothing you could have done. People die from the Influenza every day. It's a dark world, you know.'

Mary frowned and continued to stare into the distance, looking disturbed.

'Your flower shop is light, though. And you carry it around with you,' Poppy continued, and she gave Mary a big, warm hug. 'You're beautiful. Smile.'

Mary couldn't help herself; she smiled, then grinned, then laughed. 'You're right! I'm being ridiculous, it just got me thinking, you know?'

'Yeah, definitely. I know the feeling,' Poppy agreed solemnly, but then she perked up. 'Would you like some lemon slice?'

'My favorite,' Mary beamed.

Poppy nodded. 'Just for you.'

'Of course, that'd be lovely. Thank you, Poppy.'

Poppy maneuvered around tables and gathered a piece of cake from under the counter, placing it carefully on a plate and picking a desert fork. Mary stared out the window at the sunset and touched her hazelnut hair (the curls now gone). She thought she would get some daisies and put them at her bedside; she would forget about Edward Cullen eventually. He was a handsome boy, but he was gone now, and there was nothing she could do.

Poppy returned with the lemon slice and kissed her forehead. 'Take as much time as you like.'

Mary nodded and then looked out the window again. It was going to be a cold night.

*

When Mary was walking home from the Slates' restaurant a few hours later, the sun was just letting its final light spread across the world. It would be a about half an hour until the street lamps were switched on. As Mary was thinking about the daisies she was going to put on her bedside table, she heard a voice from the darkness.

'_Mary_,' it said.

Mary looked around, but saw nobody. She continued walking, dismissing the sound as her imagination. Then she heard it again and really looked this time. Twilight was making a chilled appearance and she was eager to get home, but she recognized the voice, and that bothered her. It was Edward Cullen's voice. But how could it be?

Her eyes found a pair of bright red eyes in an alleyway.

_A cat?_ Mary thought. _Yes, it's probably just a cat. I'm probably just imagining it, Edward is dead. He died._ She paused. _But it sounds so real._

'I'm as cat-like as your pretty little thighs,' growled the voice, and Mary turned around in fright, the blush flushing up to her cheeks.

'Wh-'

'Ooh, you look so tasty when you blush,' said Edward and Mary's legs began to shake. Her head began to spin. _This is impossible!_

The eyes came closer and his body glimmered in the early moonlight. It _was_ Edward Cullen, but he looked so different so…

'I frighten you, don't I?' Edward said in a silky voice. His voice rang and sounded as beautiful as diamonds, his skin was pale and his mouth perked into a hungry smile. He was looking her over like a… _piece of meat._

'What are you doing? Who – how are you alive? Why are your eyes red like that?'

'I just wanted to thank you for the flowers, Mary,' Edward said, ignoring her speech. In a flash he was right in front of her, taking her breath away. He tickled her elbow and lightly grasped her arm. She saw the hungry look in his eyes, and felt threatened.

'I'll call the police!' Mary warned, feeling petrified, but Edward laughed coldly and heartlessly.

'Hush now, I don't want to play with my food,' and his teeth slid into her neck, freezing cold saliva cooling her neck, and he sucked the delicious red syrup into his veins. Mary lost her voice in her throat, as she was suddenly overwhelmed with stabbing pain all over her body. Edward's body shuddered with ecstasy and pleasure and his hands shivered with renewed force. He lifted his head and pushed her hair away from her shoulders, caressing the curve in her neck. 'Thank you for the flowers, Mary. You are just like a beautiful flower.'

His hand snaked up to touch her jugular and his lips dripped with blood. His other hand wrapped around her waist and hips and then with a violent twist, her neck and spine snapped in two. Mary passed out, death close at her heels. Edward breathed in her succulent flesh and blew the hair out of her eyes. He suddenly felt sadness under the massive hunger. 'It's a pity spring is almost over.'

He licked the puncture marks and lifted up her shirt, digging his teeth into her stomach, and pulling breath. Suddenly, he heard Carlisle's thoughts nearby and saw the doctor appear at his side, pushing him away from the girl. Edward let him.

'No!' he yelled and brought his voice down to a harsh whisper. 'I told you not to do it in public.' Carlisle pulled the boy into an alleyway and scolded him with an angry stare. 'Don't you understand how much trouble we'll get in if we're caught?' The doctor sniffed and then looked down at Mary in Edwards arms, her eyes shut like a doll, her body twisted and mangled. 'She's still alive.'

'I know,' Edward said simply. Carlisle frowned.

'You can't keep her alive, you know.'

'I know,' he said again. 'I just wanted to say goodbye.'

He pressed his cheek to the girls throat and, still feeling the warmth inside of her, pressed his teeth into her flesh once more, draining the final drops of life. Carlisle sensed that Edward's thirst had been quenched. He would be hungry again in ten minutes. When her heartbeat stopped, Edward kissed her forehead and laid her on the pavement against the grimy wall, pulling something out of his pocket. Daisies.

He placed the blue-creped paper bouquet over the girl's chest, and then stood back.

'She gave you those flowers,' Carlisle observed. Edward nodded his head, silently hoping that Poppy would find a new love. After all, the thoughts he had read had confirmed the rumors. Mary's death would be devastating to her. But that was life. And he was dead.

'I wanted to give them back.'


End file.
